


A Day Without Trouble

by americaninja



Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Family Dynamics, Gen, for once nothing bad happens
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-02
Updated: 2020-05-02
Packaged: 2021-03-01 20:55:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,007
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23973376
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/americaninja/pseuds/americaninja
Summary: Due to the ludicrous amount of supervillains who call Gotham home, it's hard to say there's ever a normal, peaceful day. But there's always an exception to prove the rule... and Bruce isn't sure how to handle it.
Kudos: 46





	A Day Without Trouble

**Author's Note:**

> Man, it sure is tough being a superhero with no crime to fight.

**5:30 a.m.**

Bruce sat and stared at the many screens of the Batcomputer, slowly munching on a bowl of cereal. Each screen was tuned to a security camera somewhere in Gotham, most of them focused on Arkham and Blackgate. Then he heard footsteps.

“What?” he said, not turning.

Dick laughed and approached the console. “Up early again? I couldn’t sleep, so I just got in some exercise.”

“Actually, I’ve been up since 4. I just… ugh, I don’t know. I feel like something’s gonna happen today.”

“Really? I had the opposite feeling. I don’t think a single Batman-level incident is going to happen today,” Dick said.

“What makes you say that?” Bruce said.

“Well, think about it. Everyone major is locked up, even the Joker. Sure, he won’t stay for long, but you just got him in there yesterday, and escapes take time. I think you should use today to just… relax. Hang out, y’know?”

Bruce sighed and looked away. “That just makes me want to watch the screens more. Days without trouble don’t just _happen_ in Gotham.”

“Statistically speaking, you gotta have at least _one_ , right? Maybe today is that day! Look, if it makes you feel better, I can have the rest of us take turns watching the screens. If anything happens, I’ll get on the horn right away. But you deserve a day without trouble, as you called it. Take time for yourself. Have some fun,” Dick said.

Bruce opened his mouth to speak, but closed it. He shoved another spoonful of cereal in his mouth.

Dick stared at him. “You can’t think of anything to do besides crimefighting, can you.”

More blistering silence.

Dick laughed brightly. “Let me suggest some things, then. Why don’t you go see a movie? Take a walk in the park? Cook dinner, read one of those books you haven’t read, go to an amusement park, _something_! I know you must have some kind of ‘hobby,’” he said, getting up in Bruce’s face as he made air quotes. He grinned sarcastically.

Bruce just glared at him. “Uncalled for, Richard.”

“Oh! Well, alright then! Listen, if you don’t wanna have fun, that’s on you, but I am making an executive decision. Get up. No more Batcave for you today. I’ll take over down here for a while.” He grabbed Bruce by the arm and pulled him out of the chair, still smiling. Then he whirled Bruce around and pushed him up the stairs. 

“I’m gonna tell Alfred not to let you in at all today, okay? Okay! Have fun!” Dick slammed the door shut, and the grandfather clock slid back into place.

Bruce stared in disbelief at the clock. “Kicked out by my own son. Unbelievable,” he muttered, before he finally gave in and walked away.

**7:15 a.m.**

“I can have fun. I _can_. It’s just… this gut feeling won’t go away. How can I have fun when I feel like something terrible is going to happen?” Bruce said under his breath as he paced back and forth.

“Quit talking to yourself,” Damian said as he walked past the study, not looking up from his phone

Bruce’s eyes widened. “Damian! Come back here!”

A protracted groan floated down the hall, followed by Damian walking backwards until he was standing in the doorway. “Whaaaat?”

Bruce walked up and put a hand on his son’s shoulder. “I just had an idea. How would you and Jon like to go to the amusement park?”

Damian’s eyes narrowed. “Uhh… I mean, I know _he’d_ never pass up the opportunity, but you want to _come with_ , don’t you.”

“Well, uh, someone has to watch you two.”

“Lies. You know we can take care of ourselves. Besides, I’m not sure I want to go to Amusement Mile. That place is, pardon my language, _fucking dank_.”

A shriek of laughter rang out. Bruce and Damian looked up as Stephanie dropped from the top of a bookshelf that was hidden in shadow. “Watch your mouth, Damian,” she chuckled.

Damian let out a hissing breath from between his teeth. Stephanie bounded forward and grabbed him in a noogie. “You want me to take you and Jon to Luna Land? Metropolis is a hell of a lot nicer,” she said.

Damian wriggled himself free and swept her legs out from under her. She landed on her butt with a _THUD_ , but didn’t seem perturbed in the slightest. “I think I’d rather stay in and catch up on my reading today,” he said. 

Stephanie shrugged. “Suit yourself.” She leapt to her feet and wandered off. 

“So you really don’t want to go?” Bruce said, feeling his palms bead with sweat. His eyes flicked towards the clock. 7:20. Dear God, was he doomed to spend this whole day trying and failing to do stuff? 

Damian shrugged. “I mean, not really.” He looked down at Bruce’s clenched, sweaty fists. “You need to loosen up. I’ve got a small canvas left if you feel like you want to try painting. I’ll be in my room.” He walked away, turning his gaze back to his phone as he went.

Bruce sighed. “Fine. Whatever. Who needs Amusement Mile anyway?” He left the study, walking _slooooowly_ towards his room.

  
  


**11:30 a.m.**

“Absolutely _not_ ,” Alfred said. 

“Come on, Alfred, _please_? Just one quick check?” Bruce said, embarrassed at the pleading tone that crept into his voice.

Alfred stood impassively in front of the grandfather clock. “Master Todd is down there now. He’s perfectly capable of handling things. _You_ need to _relax_. I am not letting you in here until tomorrow.”

“But--”

Alfred put a firm hand on Bruce’s shoulder and walked him towards the living room, where he forced Bruce into a seat. He sat down next to him and said in a low voice, “I understand this is hard. It goes against your very nature. I cannot change that. But you need this, don’t you see? Perhaps crime never sleeps, but men do. You are just a _man_ , Bruce. So please, let us shoulder your burden for just one day. I promise you, you deserve such a rest. In fact, I have a suggestion for you. When was the last time you ate at a restaurant?”

“Um… about a month ago. It was for business purposes,” Bruce said.

Alfred smiled a little. “Then I suggest you go eat somewhere you’ve been craving. Go find someone to accompany you. God knows this house is full of constantly hungry people.”

Bruce sighed. “I… okay. Where’s Duke?”

“I believe he is in the gardens.”

“Alright. Fine. But _call me_ if something happens, okay?”

“Of course.” Alfred watched and shook his head a little as Bruce awkwardly ambled away.

  
  


**12:40 p.m.**

“Welcome to McBurger, what can I get you?” the gangly teen behind the counter said, trying not to panic at the fact that he was taking Bruce Wayne’s order.

Bruce looked over at Duke. “What did you say you wanted?”

Duke blinked. “Hm? Oh, uh, a chicken sandwich meal.”

“You sure you don't want a burger? Kinda the point of this place.”

Duke shrugged. “Not in a burger mood, I guess.”

“Alright. One chicken sandwich meal and one Big Burger meal.”

The cashier punched in the order with jittery fingers before handing over two soda cups. “Anything e-else?”

“No thanks. Duke, would you find us a table?” Bruce said. 

Duke nodded. He grabbed his cup and filled it at the soda station before wandering off to find a single empty table in the joint.

“That’ll be $13.62,” the cashier said. 

Bruce slid a fifty across the counter. “Keep the change.” The cashier gaped at the bill before silently handing Bruce a receipt with a number on it. He nodded and stood aside to wait for his food.

Duke hastily put his phone down as Bruce handed him a bag and sat down. Bruce nodded at it. “Something the matter?”

“N-No, nothing. Just a text from Tim.”

“What’s he up to?”

“Uh, he was just asking if I needed anything from the store. Also, he wanted to know where I put his old staff.”

“Well, where _did_ you put it?” Bruce said. He unwrapped his burger and took a bite, trying not to dwell too deeply on what the text might have actually said.

“Nowhere! I didn’t touch it!” Duke said indignantly. He grabbed his fries and shoved a couple in his mouth.

They ate quietly for a couple minutes, listening to the chatter of the restaurant. Bruce’s eyes darted around incessantly; it was barely noticeable, but Duke saw it. He took a long sip from his soda, sighed, and said, “What are you looking for?”

“Just… nothing really, I guess. But people are staring, y’know. It’s putting me on edge.”

Duke resisted the urge to facepalm. “Yeah, no duh. Have you forgotten who you are?”

Bruce turned his head slightly to the side to glance at the young couple in the booth across the aisle. They immediately looked away, blushing furiously. He turned back to Duke. “Right. I forgot… that Bruce Wayne doesn't usually eat at McBurger.”

A small grin cracked Duke’s face. “That’s for sure. In any case, how do you feel? Be honest.”

The burger stopped inches from Bruce’s mouth. He put it down reluctantly. “I’m trying. I really, really am. But it’s so hard. Nothing is ever this quiet. Nothing is ever this normal. I don’t know… what normal is anymore, I don’t think.”

Duke chuckled. “I think that having an abnormal outlook on life is a requirement for living in Wayne Manor. It’s okay to feel like this, I promise. But keep trying. Days like this come around less than a blue moon.”

“To say the least. I gotta say, though… I forgot how much I like McBurger. I mean, it’s absolutely awful for you in every sense of the word, but it is annoyingly delicious.” Bruce picked his burger back up and took another bite. “God, I can feel my arteries clogging already. I’m gonna have to work out extra hard when we get back. I’m worried my internal organs are _too_ healthy for this stuff. Houses of cards and all that.”

At that, Duke burst out laughing, clutching at his stomach as he doubled over. After a moment, Bruce started to laugh too, a soft snicker that soon blossomed into a full-blown belly laugh. Half the restaurant turned to look at Bruce Wayne laughing his ass off, with more than a few phones held up to stream the bizarre sight to their followers. He didn’t even care. As he laughed, he felt a small weight lift off his shoulders.

  
  


**4:45 p.m.**

After they had returned from McBurger, Bruce hit the manor gym as promised. He persuaded Jason to accompany him, and for hours, they boxed in the ring, raced each other on the treadmills, and competed to see who could lift the most. It was a close match every time.

While they were cooling down, splayed out on a pair of yoga mats and not doing anything at all resembling yoga, Bruce turned to Jason and said, “Have you seen Tim at all today?”

“No,” Jason said through wheezing breaths. “Haven’t seen Cass either, though. They’re probably together. Shocking, I know.”

“What about Dick?”

“Saw him earlier. Didn’t stick around. Don’t know where he is, though.”

Something pricked at the back of Bruce’s mind, but he pushed it aside as best as he could. “Hm. Okay.” He stood up and said, “I’m gonna take a shower.”

“Whatever,” Jason said, not getting up. 

The water was bitterly cold, but it helped chase away a bit more of that weight. Bruce left the shower feeling refreshed and with a small spring in his step. After he got dressed, he spotted a book lying on his nightstand that hadn’t been there before. There was no note, no indication of who could have left it there, but he recognized it right away. It was his old childhood copy of _Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea_. Hesitantly, he sat down on the edge of the bed and opened it to the first page.

Reading it, he heard his father’s voice in the back of his mind. Normally, when he was young, his mother would read to him--except one night, when she hadn’t been feeling well. Still wanting a bedtime story, the young Bruce had begged Thomas to read it to him, and eventually he relented. Even after Martha had gotten better, Thomas had continued to read it to him every night until the book was finished. 

At first, it was a bit difficult to read. Bruce put the book face down for a moment. He looked up at the ceiling, taking careful, measured breaths. Finally, he whispered, “Okay.” He picked the book back up, lay down, and began to read in earnest. Eventually, Thomas’s voice faded until it was nothing more than a quiet murmur, reading along with his son instead of to him. The tension in his shoulders melted away, and the story embraced him completely.

  
  


**7:26 p.m.**

Alfred knocked on Bruce’s open door and said, “Dinner is ready, sir. I think you missed me calling for you earlier.”

Bruce looked at the clock. “Oh, shoot. Sorry.” He folded the corner of the page and closed the book before following Alfred down to the dining room.

Dick, Stephanie, Damian, Jason, and Duke were already sitting down, eating at various speeds (though all could be described as “dangerously fast”). Bruce sat down, and Alfred handed him a plate before sitting down himself to eat.

At the sound of Bruce sitting down, Dick looked up and smiled. “Sooooooo… how was your day? _Relaxing?_ ”

Bruce rolled his eyes. “Yes, Dick, it was… nice.” He took a bite of his baked potato and tried not to look Dick in the eyes as his smile stretched even wider.

“Jeez, Dick, you’re gonna break your face lookin’ like that,” Stephanie said. Jason snorted into his glass. 

“Shut up,” Dick said with a laugh. Then he blinked. “Say, where are Tim and Cass?”

Just then, the doorbell rang. Alfred sighed and got up to open the door. A minute later, Tim and Cass entered, each carrying a bunch of grocery bags. “Here you go, Duke,” Tim said, dropping one of the bags directly in Duke’s lap. “Still wish you’d tell me where my old staff is, though.”

“For the last damn time, I don’t know, and it wasn’t me!” Duke snapped. “But uh… thanks for getting this.”

“No prob,” Tim said as he sat down. Cass silently handed Damian a box of something before sitting down as well.

“Hey, what is that?” Bruce said.

Damian immediately dropped his hand out of sight. “What’s it to you?” he blurted.

“Damian....” Bruce said warningly.

“Ugh. Fine. Here.” He got up, walked over to Bruce’s seat, and dropped a box of sour gummies in front of him. “It’s for you.”

“O-Oh. Well, I, uh… thank you. Can’t remember the last time I had some of these. Guess I know what I’ll be having for dessert.”

A thin smile crossed Damian’s face. “Wasn’t sure if those were the ones you liked or not. You could call it a token of congratulations for getting through today without losing your mind.”

At that, Dick and Stephanie cackled in unison. Bruce smirked. “Clearly you didn’t have a lot of confidence in me.”

“Nah, not really. But hey, you survived!” Dick said. “After dinner, let’s all watch a movie or something. It’s been ages.”

Immediately, the table erupted in argument over what to watch, to the point of Damian and Jason leaping out of their seats and threatening to wrestle each other. Bruce and Alfred sat and watched in silence, not even bothering to raise a finger. Finally, Cass stood up and clapped her hands together loud as a whip crack. Everyone froze and faced her. “Why don’t… we let _Bruce_ decide what to watch,” she said.

Sufficiently humbled, everyone turned to Bruce, who blinked in surprise. “Uhh… well, if you insist…”

  
  


**10:38 p.m.**

The movie was over. Bruce pressed the stop button on the remote, yawned, and turned to see if anyone was awake. Jason was curled up like a cat on his couch, snoring softly. Cass was draped over Tim, himself splayed out over their sofa in a terribly ungainly manner. At some point, Damian had rolled off of his couch and was now fast asleep on the floor, with Titus lying next to him. Stephanie was lying across the top of the back cushions, stirring slightly and mumbling to herself; Duke was stretched out across the couch itself, arms crossed over his chest. Alfred hadn’t even stuck around for the whole film. Only Dick was still awake, if only just. When he saw Bruce, he slowly got to his feet and began to help Bruce turn off the home theater system.

“Was this a good day?” he murmured, lest he wake anyone.

Bruce smiled. After a moment of hesitation, he said, “Yes. Thank you, Dick. You were right, I did need this.”

“I know you did. I’m glad you had a good day, Dad. See, I told you not every day here is a waking nightmare.”

Bruce chuckled. “Perhaps. But I’m not counting on tomorrow being this kind to me.” He looked out at his sleeping family. “Should we wake them?”

“Nahhh. They’ll figure it out eventually. Come on, let’s go to bed,” Dick said. With that, they crept out of the theater and went to their respective bedrooms. 

As Bruce crawled into bed and turned out the light, he sighed. Against all odds, it _had_ been a good day. What a rarity those were for him. He rolled over and let himself drop off to a sound sleep. It had been a very long time since he’d allowed himself to sleep so wholly, so without tension and worry, and it felt miraculous.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!


End file.
